There was, besides, a serving man, whose name was Phil. Our retrospective glance presents Phil as a shipwrecked carpenter, cast away upon the desert island of a school, and carrying into practice an ingenious inkling of many trades. He mended whatever was broken, and made whatever was wanted. He was general glazier, among other things, and mended all the broken windows--at the prime cost (as was darkly rumored among us) of ninepence, for every square charged three-and-six to parents. We had a high opinion of his mechanical genius, and generally held that the Chief “knew something bad of him,” and on pain of divulgence enforced Phil to be his bondsman. We particularly remember that Phil had a sovereign contempt for learning; which engenders in us a respect for his sagacity, as it implies his accurate observation of the relative positions of the Chief and the ushers. He was an impenetrable man, who waited at table between whiles, and throughout “the half” kept the boxes in severe custody. He was morose, even to the Chief, and never smiled, except at breaking-up, when, in acknowledgment of the toast, “Success to Phil! Hooray!” he would slowly carve a grin out of his wooden face, where it would remain until we were all gone. Nevertheless, one time when we had the scarlet fever in the school, Phil nursed all the sick boys of his own accord, and was like a mother to them. There was another school not far off, and of course Our School could have nothing to say to that school. It is mostly the way with schools, whether of boys or men. Well! the railway has swallowed up ours, and the locomotives now run smoothly over its ashes. “So fades and languishes, grows dim and dies, All that this world is proud of.” --and is not proud of, too. It had little reason to be proud of Our School, and has done much better since in that way, and will do far better yet. ALICIA IN WONDERLAND XXII ALICIA IN WONDERLAND WE all know Lewis Carroll’s _Alice in Wonderland_. Dickens had an Alice too who was worth knowing. Her wonderland was a plain little house in London. Her father, Mr. Watkins, was a poorly paid government clerk who found it hard to support his large family. Her mother found life too much for her nerves. So Alice had to take the responsibility for the family happiness. While other people were worrying, she tried to make things pleasant. But fortunately Alice had such a fortunate disposition that she could live in London and in Wonderland at the same time. In Wonderland, her father, Mr. Watkins, was king, and Mrs. Watkins was queen, and Mr. Pickles the fish-dealer was a great merchant of untold wealth. Alice had a doll who was a duchess, to whom she told her troubles, and with whom she consulted about the fashions. The duchess was a very proud and sympathetic person indeed.